


Immerse

by rathernotmyname



Series: Fictober! 2020 [11]
Category: Papillon (2018) RPF
Genre: Charlie Hunnam's Beard, Domestic Fluff, Fictober! Day 11, M/M, needs an own tag because it's magnificent, rated T for implied smut and a vibrator, that's basically all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rathernotmyname/pseuds/rathernotmyname
Summary: Rami needs to shave and Charlie needs a new Amazon password.
Relationships: Charlie Hunnam/Rami Malek
Series: Fictober! 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050200
Kudos: 3





	Immerse

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note:  
> I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING HOSTED OR REPOSTED ON ANY UNOFFICIAL APPS OR WEBSITES OTHER THAN ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN WITHOUT MY APPROVAL, PARTICULARLY APPS WITH AD REVENUE AND SUBSCRIPTION SERVICES.

“You need to shave.”

The clump on the bed scoffs, the face looking out scrunched in mock-annoyance.

“Really? You’re one to talk.”

Charlie smooths a hand down his blond beard. 

“Well, it suits me, that’s a difference,” he says, grinning in anticipation. 

Teasing is like an extreme sport for them, someone had told them once, and they couldn’t help but agree.

Rami emerges fully from where he had curled up under the covers, dark stubble on his cheeks and chin making rasping sounds as he rubs his thumb over it. His eyes are narrowed, making him look smug and mischievous. 

He climbs off the bed and moves towards where Charlie is standing with his cup of coffee in hand, purposefully shimmying his hips as he walks. 

“What is your problem with my growing a beard? Have you seen Sami? I’d say it’d look nice,” he says, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s neck and looking up at him, careful to not upset the full cup. 

“Oh, it would. Sami is damn hot, you have a point.”

A snort.

“Are you considering exchanging me with him? Remember that I know a lot of tall Brits with beards and without. You’re not as special as you think.”

Charlie reaches out and deposits his cup on the dresser. 

“Maybe I should replace you with Sami. He’s civil, at the very least.”

With that, he crouches and throws the squealing Rami over his shoulder, holding onto his calves and sprinting out the bedroom to the first floor, Rami gasping in laughter against his back. 

He hops around in the kitchen some more, thoroughly shaking Rami up, and then sets him down on his feet again, and kisses him, slowly and lazily, for at least five minutes.

They come up for breath, feeling as if they had been immersed in a warm ocean, if the ocean happened to be a very good kisser, that is.

“Well, you go and grow your beard. But don’t come complaining when you break your razors again,” Charlie tells him, trying to fix the abundance of curls on Rami’s head. It stays askew as no matter which way he arranges him, so he gives up. 

“Just you watch, I’ll outgrow you in length in a matter of a few days.”

“Maybe in volume. I certainly look forward to long, luscious curls on your chin, because that’s what you’re gonna get.”

Rami rolls his eyes, but presses a kiss to Charlie’s bearded cheek and walks in the direction of the bathroom.

“Maybe you’re right. I have enough curls already, don’t have to add to it. And I also won’t have to watch out while eating to not carry a whole tomato around in my beard for an entire evening.”

Charlie groans, making Rami guffaw and quickly escape to the bathroom. 

“You could have said something!”

“I’m sorry.” Rami’s snickering rings out from behind the door. “But it was hilarious! And the tomato was very comfortable in there, I didn’t want to disturb it.”

With a sigh, Charlie goes back upstairs to get his coffee, shutting off his phone on the way downstairs. It’s his day off, and Rami doesn’t have much to do today either, so he wants no distractions or his overeager manager babbling his ear off for three hours. 

He enters the bathroom to the sight of Rami smothering his face in shaving cream. A quick smooch on the uncovered nose from makes him smile, mouth curling and eyes crinkling as they always do. 

Charlie turns to the mirror. 

“Do you think it’s time for this one to go, too?”

Rami frowns in deep thought, reaching out a warm hand to carefully tug at the three inches of blond hair hanging off his boyfriend’s chin.

“No, keep it,” he decides and whips out his razor. “I quite like the way it looks. And the feeling when you-”

The loud ringing of the doorbell interrupts him. They exchange an equally irritated and puzzled glance. They don’t expect anyone, and who in their right mind would want something on a Sunday at 9 am?

“Maybe something happened,” Charlie suggests, and the fall of Rami’s face makes him regret it immediately. 

“Or some douche who didn’t get the right address,” he quickly adds, squeezing Rami’s hand. “You shave, I’ll go look.”

“Right,” Rami says and lifts his razor, hesitant in his movements. 

Charlie hears the clatter of it being put back on the counter and Rami’s steps behind him, too worried to not see who’s at the door. Charlie can’t blame him.

He opens the door right as the visitor rings again, and to his surprise and relief it’s not the police or anyone else, but just a young, skittish man in a Royal Mail uniform.

“Morning,” Charlie tells him, his confusion evident in his voice. 

“Yes, hello,” the mailman squeaks out, visibly starstruck at who opened the door. 

As if the name on the doorbell plate hadn’t been enough to clue him in, Charlie thinks irritably.

“Uh, I have a package for-” the mailman stops short in a gasp as he discovers Rami’s face peeking out behind Charlie, still covered in shaving cream and frowning as if the world is going down. 

Charlie clears his throat.

“I’m sorry. I have a package for you, Mr. H- Mr. Hunnam…?”

“Er. Thank you.”

Charlie takes the delivery, even though he can’t remember having ordered anything. Maybe it’s a present from a fan. How did they get his address, though?

“Since when do you deliver on Sunday?” Rami asks the poor mailman who looks as if he’s going to shit himself any minute.

“It’s express delivery,” the boy stammers, wringing the rim of his shirt. At Rami’s nod he adds: “I still need your signature, Mr. Hunnam.”

Charlie signs on the tablet, and then asks for a receipt. The mailman prints a copy of the receipt as well, pulls a pen out of his pocket, and stutters away.

“It’s okay, we’re not going to rip your head off,” Charlie tries to calm him, takes the copy and signs on the back. Rami stretches an arm out and signs, too. 

“You just caught us off guard, we thought it was a family emergency.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense, you’re just doing your job,” Rami argues, giving the receipt back. “Don’t sell them, alright?”

The mailman shakes his head frantically, and Charlie is inclined to believe him in the way he cradles his signed receipt like God himself threw it down from the heavens.

“Have a nice Sunday, then,” he says, giving the mailman a smile that comes back a hundred times amplified.

“You too, and thank you so much, I’m a big fan of you,” he beams.

“So we figured,” Rami mumbles, too quiet for the mailman to hear.

They bid the happy man goodbye and close the door, the box still in Charlie’s hands.

“Well, then let’s see what this is.”

The box is opened in only a second thanks to Rami’s talent with the kitchen scissors, and shortly after they stare into the package as if it had insulted their mothers.

There, neatly padded in bubble wrap, lies a green, glittery vibrator.

A nervous chuckle from his right makes Charlie lift his eyes. Rami’s face is ablaze, ears red like a fire engine. 

“Uh,” Rami starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I must have ordered it without logging out of your account first. I’m sorry, I’ll transfer the money to you as soon as possible.”

Charlie raises an eyebrow, a sly grin building on his face.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“This is so fucking embarrassing,” Rami groans, burying his burning face in his hands, shoulder’s shaking in humiliated laughter.

Charlie can’t help the snorting laugh that bursts out of him, but he pats Rami’s back comfortingly. 

“Well, what do you say about postponing your shave until we tried it out? Just so we know that it works.”

Rami lifts his head. He still looks vaguely ashamed, but he’s smiling. 

“So you don’t care about a little bit of beard-burn?”

Charlie shrugs benevolently. “If you have to deal with it, I guess I can bite the bullet this time, darling.”

On their way back to the bedroom, Rami pushes softly at Charlie’s cheek to stop their making out for a moment. 

“It’s not as bad as I always claim,” he breathes, shuddering when the other’s lips wander down his neck, sucking a little bruise into his collar bone. 

“Oh? That’s a relief.”

“Mh-hm. It feels really good, to be completely honest. Way better than carpet burn.”

“Well, I’m not gonna ask how you know that. I wouldn’t voluntarily slide around on my arse on a carpet. That doesn’t sound very sexy.”

Rami guides Charlie’s head up so he can french-kiss him, shrugging as they break apart to breathe.

“In the right situation with the right people, everything can be sexy.”

After a brief stop in the bathroom to get a few condoms for them and the new vibrator, they fall onto the bed, lazy Sunday activities forgotten, immersing in their very own ocean once again and not coming up for air until late afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember what I said? I can't write smut. So sorry.   
> This was very self-indulgent because ,, I want what they have. That is all.  
> Thank you for reading! ♥


End file.
